Draco Black And The Dark Heir
by NoexcusesNoapologiesNoregrets
Summary: Three people brought together by fate, destiny and death. Against all odds, they are a family. A united force that will rock the world to an impossible edge. Harry Potter, dangerous and mighty. Draco Black, courageous and passionate. Hermione Granger, deadly and valiant. Will they survive their second year at Hogwarts and solve the mysteries hidden both within and outside it?
1. Dalia St Clair

_**Hello my favourite humans! I am back with the second story in the Elementals and Gods universe.**_

 _ **First of all I should say that this story is technically the second part in a seven part series, so it would probably be best if you read the first story 'Harry Potter and the Elemental Magik' (spelt with a 'k' on purpose for a reason, I promise.). If you don't read the first story then this one might confuse you a bit. Unless you enjoy being confused, then by all means skip the first one if you like.**_

 _ **Some warnings for this story and the series as a whole:**_

 _ **-Language. Bad. But not unless it's warranted for the situation.**_

 _ **-Violence and gore. Action scenes and scenes of torture, abuse and rape. (I will warn more specifically later on about those.)**_

 _ **-Sexual situations. Het and Slash pairings.**_

 _ **-Some characters are different to the originals. For good reason though.**_

 _ **-Probably some other stuff too, but we'll see. I will try to warn you lot of anything you might not like.**_

 _ **This story will be dark at times. But there's also some humour thrown in, so it should be a good balance (hopefully). The series itself will get darker as it goes on.**_

 _ **The magik in this universe is quite different to the magic in the original series. There are also different species, some Elementals who wield the power of the elements, and others who descend from Gods with other abilities.**_

 _ **Harry, Draco and Hermione are equal main characters in this series. They each get their own storyline, but those plots sometimes merge together as well. When Harry, Draco or Hermione are the main focus, then the story will be told in first person, but when anyone else is the focus then the story will shift into third person.**_

 _ **This first chapter is a prologue of sorts, and is therefore quite short. Most of my chapters are very long normally.**_

 _ **I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. JK ROWLING DOES THOUGH! The only things I own are the OC's.**_

 _ **So then my pretties, on with the story!**_

* * *

 **Draco Black And The Dark Heir**

 _Dancing bears,_  
 _Painted wings,_  
 _Things I almost remember,_  
 _And a song someone sings,_  
 _Once upon a December._

 _Someone holds me safe and warm,_  
 _Horses prance through a silver storm,_  
 _Figures dancing gracefully across my memory_

 _Far away,_  
 _Long ago,_  
 _Glowing dim as an ember,_  
 _Things my heart used to know,_  
 _Things it yearns to remember_  
 _And a song someone sings_

 _Once upon a December_

* * *

 **Dalia St. Clair**

No one ever told Dalia St. Clair that she was particularly special.

Her whole life, Dalia understood what it meant to be strong. To take care of herself. Her parents died when she was very young, and so she never had the chance to be part of a family. She went into care and didn't come out until the law released her from its cold and indifferent grip.

Dalia had gotten used to being alone. Life was hard for her, and she could not deny that those hardships she had faced are what made her strong enough to survive an unfairly cruel world.

But it is also true that Dalia St. Clair never knew true strength, until she found love. A real and tangible love that attached itself to the very essence of her soul and wound that love through her entire being.

She found that love on a cold night in December on Christmas day. Dalia found a boy. An undeniably special boy with strange emerald eyes that shone with something important. Something extraordinary.

It was then that she knew. She knew that her life had been preparing her for this. For Harry. A little boy with a scar on his forehead and no real family to call his own.

Dalia felt it deep inside, for the very first time. She felt that her life finally held meaning. Of course, she had never been one to think that having a child is all that could give a woman purpose. In fact, before Harry, she had never desired a child of her own. She had been content to take care of and support the children who resided in Hallows House.

But Harry changed everything. He showed her a new way to live and to love and to hope. He brought out a fierceness in her that she didn't know she'd possessed. To Dalia, Harry became the most important thing in her world.

Dalia had thought she finally understood what it felt like to have a family of her own. Harry proved her very wrong on that count. He showed her that they could not be whole without another mysterious boy with strange eyes.

Harry brought her a second son. Dalia doesn't know how, or why, but she does know that Draco would not have found his way to them if it hadn't of been for Harry. Harry found Draco. Or perhaps they found each other.

For even lost souls can find their way to safety in the dark if the stars of fate reveal their course.

Draco came to be Dalia's light. Her moral compass. He was very different from Harry. And yet they fit so perfectly together. Draco and Harry became each other's cornerstone the moment they met. By a tree in Dalia's garden. The little lord and his baby Dragon.

From the very beginning, Harry and Draco tied Dalia to another kind of love.

Adam Brooks.

Dalia can admit to herself that if it hadn't of been for their connection through Harry and Draco, then maybe Dalia would have never allowed herself to love Adam. Dalia's chosen sons gave her the chance to trust someone in a way she'd never been able to before.

Adam, a man so strong and so kind and so maddeningly patient, proved himself over and over again. He showed Dalia, in a million tiny ways each and every day, that he would always be there for the boys. For her.

For the first time in her life Dalia had someone she could depend on. It was both incredible and frightening at the same time. To have children she could love and a friend who would always want to fight _with_ her instead of _for_ her, as others had tried before.

Dalia realised that she had been longing for these things. So, finally, she allowed herself to need. And it felt wonderful. Better than any book or film or song could ever describe.

Then came Hermione. Hermione Granger.

A girl. A girl who had lost her parents. A girl who reminded Dalia so much of herself. She saw strength inside that little girl. It was a strength few people are born with. Most have to earn that kind of strength. Dalia did. Adam did. Harry and Draco did, in their own way.

But this girl. This special little girl who had just lost everything looked Dalia right in eye and Dalia understood. She knew that this girl was a natural born fighter.

Dalia believes, after having experienced her own pain and surrounded herself with the pain of others, that there are three types of people in the world. Everyone is unique. Everyone has their own story to tell and their own lives to live. But at their very core, there are only three.

There are the acceptors. The people who can see a storm coming their way and decide that it is better to surrender. To accept the inevitability of their fate.

There are the survivors. The people who decide to weather the storm and take a chance on themselves. They hold on with all their strength and keep moving forward even when all hope seems to be lost.

There are the fighters. The people who refuse to accept or simply bear the storm. They make the choice to fight back. These people would rather fail than allow themselves to be controlled.

These three choices are not examples of how people choose to die, but instead they are examples of how people choose to _live_.

To accept. To _survive_. To **fight**.

The universe will only ever ask you one question:

 ** _Who are you?_**

It will ask you the same question every single day of your life.

It is our responsibility to never stop answering.

Hermione Granger is a fighter. Dalia saw that, and she knew. She knew that she had been waiting for Hermione as well.

Hermione would complete their family. They needed her. She needed them.

Now, of course, there is Tyson.

Tyson Adam Brooks.

Dalia's first child of blood.

She had been worried that she would feel differently about him. He was not chosen by fate nor by Dalia herself. But he would be Dalia's son. Adam's son. And she would love him.

Of course, she'd failed to realise that Tyson Adam Brooks would not just be her son and Adam's son. He would also be the younger brother of Harry Potter, Draco Black and Hermione Granger.

Cunning. Kindess. Strength.

And now Tyson.

Their Tyson.

Dalia was reminded that first summer of how much her chosen children belong to each other. She was reminded of their bond with brutal force when they chose to accept her son of blood into their promise. A promise of unity. Loyalty. Trust. Of unconditional and absolute love.

No matter how much Dalia and Adam loved their chosen children, and how much those children loved them in return, Dalia knew that they would always love each other more. So Dalia also knew, that Tyson belonged to them in a way he would never belong to anyone else, not even Dalia and Adam.

Fate, Dalia decided, is a very strange and extraordinary thing.

* * *

 _"Do not be afraid; our fate_  
 _Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift."_

 _― Dante Alighieri, Inferno_

* * *

 ** _A/N-Song 'Once Upon a December' by Liz Callaway. I think this song actually suits both Harry and Draco's backstory quite well._**

 ** _I hope you all enjoyed this first mini chapter, please review and let me know what you think so far! xxx_**

 ** _Thank you so much to everyone for reading! x_**


	2. And So It Begins

**I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM! JK ROWLING DOES THOUGH!**

* * *

 **And So It Begins**

 **Harry's P.O.V**

Dancing. They're _dancing_.

"What are they _doing_?" Hermione asks, her nose crinkles up in genuine confusion. Or possibly distaste.

"I think it's some kind of old married couple mating ritual." Draco says knowingly.

Hermione scowls at him,

"Mating ritual? What are you going on about now?"

Draco grins back at her and starts babbling happily about nonsense.

"I've been reading about mating rituals for Dragons and sometimes they do this thing where-"

Hermione cuts Draco off quite successfully,

"Mating rituals for Dragons? Dalia and Adam aren't Dragons, Drake."

Draco pulls a face at her and snaps,

"I know they aren't Dragons, I'm not an idiot!"

Hermione snorts, crossing her arms over her chest and looking bored, she says,

"Well, half of that statement is true anyway."

I shake my head at my arguing siblings and look down at my newer sibling. Tyson. My baby brother. I'm holding him carefully in my arms.

Tyson's eyes are wide open and still the same cerulean blue as Dalia's. He's staring up at me with an expression on his face that I've been trying to interpret for the entire summer holiday. I like to think it's a considering look. Like maybe Tyson is still trying to decide if we are all worthy of his attentions or not.

Dalia and Adam are dancing around the kitchen to an old country song that is currently booming out of the radio at full volume. They're both smiling and laughing, and they look so happy that I feel something close to warmth spread through my chest.

We've had a good summer, one of our best I'd say. There's been practically zero drama, despite my Hydrogenic practice, Draco's Dragon and Hermione's built up ragey frustration.

Although I can tell Hermione is chomping at the bit to get back to school. She's finding it hard to train under the watchful eye of Dalia. Of course she finally had to explain what was going on when Dalia caught Hermione accidentally yanking a door off its hinges.

As predicted, Dalia did not take it well. Hermione couldn't tell Dalia anything specific obviously, because as she was told by Eos, Dalia's memory would just be taken by the Gods anyway. But Hermione did try to explain the situation vaguely and in broad terms.

Dalia did not appreciate the attempt to explain something that doesn't make much sense even when you know all the details. Having only an ambiguous explanation only makes the whole thing seem much more insane.

Draco and I tried to help of course by explaining how things work at Hogwarts, and why it's important that Hermione continue her training. Draco struggled more with that one, because he still doesn't completely support Hermione's Zanikai training. He still thinks it imposes upon Hermione's free will.

Unfortunately there are times when I agree with Draco about Hermione's situation with the Gods. But then I also see how much satisfaction Hermione appears to get from her training and I wonder if maybe she would choose this course anyway. Draco argues with that whether Hermione likes it or not isn't the point.

I suppose he's right about that. But I know Hermione. She is far from a weak-willed little girl. Hermione can make her own decisions, and I trust her enough to let her make up her own mind about what she wants and needs from her life.

If Hermione didn't want to be a Zanikai then she would have already asked me for assistance in helping her escape that particular fate. But since she hasn't done any such thing, I'm inclined to trust that she knows her own mind enough to choose her own path in this life.

Whilst my family are suitably distracted, I take Tyson outside and down to the beach. We've come to a small seaside town called 'Colbie'. Adam and Dalia rented a cottage near the beach for the last few weeks of the summer holidays before we go back to school.

I'm sure Dalia would love nothing more than to keep us all home this year. So that we could be safe. But even Dalia knows how impossible that would be at this point. I understand her need to protect us though. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at any of us. There's a fierce protectiveness there that tells all the world that she would do anything to protect her children. Her family.

Our family.

I understand it because I share her concerns. Of course I'm not a parent so the feelings are not exactly the same, but I do wish there was a way to keep my siblings safe. If I thought it wouldn't drive me insane to have him so far away, I would insist on Draco staying behind. Although the likelihood of him ever agreeing to such a thing is ludicrously small.

I remember what it felt like to almost lose Draco. That night in the forest when the mirror of Erised dragged him inside and tried to strip his soul from his body. I can still see it in my head with startling clarity. The fear I felt in that moment when I thought I'd lost him forever is unlike anything I've ever experienced. Something in me died. A level of innocence I didn't know I still possessed was shattered.

I never realised that some part of me still believed that everything would turn out alright no matter how bleak things seemed. Of course that isn't true at all. Bad things could happen to anyone, at any time. Death does not discriminate. Neither does its associates, anguish and torment.

Before that night I had not yet been faced with such a harsh truth.

It was frustrating to find a weakness so great within myself. A weakness I didn't think I had the ability to defeat. Not on my own, anyway.

But Draco proved himself stronger than I ever gave him credit for. It was Draco who fought his way free of the cage which bound him. It was Draco who gave me the strength to defeat the most foulest of enemies I will probably ever face. It was Draco who pulled me out of my tormented state and forced me to see the light he always carried inside himself.

Draco shared that light with me for the briefest of moments, and our relationship will be forever altered because of it. I know we don't look at each other in the same way anymore. Draco may want to ignore the reality of it, but I can't.

I walk across the deserted beach, still holding on tightly to Tyson. Salty wind brushes over both of us. I can taste it in the air all around me. Waves crash onto the sand, the sound oddly calming to my mind. I've always felt some sort of connection to the sea. Our holidays here were my favourite times during my childhood.

I'm not sure if my connection to the sea is because of my element or not. I believe it could be. My element rumbles inside, begging to be let out. Unleashed. Untethered.

I wish to satisfy that need now.

There's still a towel on the beach from earlier on today when the sun was out and blistering. The sun is setting now. Soon it will disappear beyond the water's edge.

Draco's been obsessed with catching the green flash this summer. Every evening we come out here, Draco, Hermione, me and Tyson. We sit together on the sand, near the caves and the rock pools. We wait there together as the sun sets.

Hermione pretends to find it tedious. But I know for a fact that she yearns for those moments between the four of us too.

It's as if, for those few brief seconds when the green flash erupts across the sky, we are all connected to each other in some way.

I drag the discarded blue towel closer to the edge of the sea where the water hisses across the sand. Tyson makes soft gurgling noises that blend in with the sounds of the sea when I lay him down onto the towel carefully.

Tyson stares up at me with those big blue eyes of his and makes a grab for my finger. I let him grasp hold of it. We stay like that for a little while. Tyson squeezing my finger with surprising strength, and me watching over him as I would my other two siblings. With a vicious kind of love I could only ever have for my family.

I wasn't sure, before we came home for the summer, if I would be able to accept Tyson Adam Brooks into my family. I knew that I would protect him for the rest of his life, for the sake of Dalia and Adam. I owe them that at the very least. But I was almost certain that my interest in the child would go no further than that.

I already had Dalia to always care for and accept me. I had Adam to keep us all steady. I had Hermione to challenge me. I had Draco to…..keep me sane. I do appreciate the irony in that, considering how insanely Draco usually behaves. I had Spero to understand me. I had Yang to help me stay in contact. I had Professor Snape to guide and teach me. I had Blaise and Pansy to keep me in the Pureblood loop.

I didn't need anyone else.

From the moment Tyson looked at me though, I realised how wrong I'd been about not needing anyone else. Because Tyson is, without a doubt, one of us. He's ours, and we're his. That's how it works. That's how it _is_.

Tyson fills a hole in our family that I didn't even realise was there until he filled it.

I remove my finger from Tyson's punishing grip and move slightly closer to the sea. Tyson makes a few noises of protest, but he doesn't cry. Instead he riggles around shamelessly on the towel, his eyes scanning the area around him, looking for me.

I am unable to stop myself from smiling fondly. It's a curse, that's what it is.

Leon, our element professor, taught me to always center myself before I attempt to use my element. He told me that our elements can be guided using strong emotion, but that in the long run it is better to have tight control over our elements. Leon said that would enable us to activate our elements at will.

I spread my legs apart, readying my stance, and use one hand to hover over the sea water. I feel my element burst to life inside my core. Cool water sliding through my veins and coughing my body to come alive.

There's something else there too, inside my core. I've been trying to ignore it for months, but every time I attempt to use my element, the feeling of 'otherness' just gets stronger. I don't know exactly what it is. I tried summoning the 'other' power once and it felt like….a rush of air. I tasted the win. Heard the sound of it bursting past my ears. Tiny tornadoes started to twist up inside my core.

It was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Ever since the Daemon attack, I've felt something shift inside my core. It's almost as if my core split into two parts. But I know that can't be possible. I've tried reading about it, but every book I've found states that Elementals only ever have one element in their core. Demi-Gods hold the power of all four, as gifts from their Godly parentage, but their elemental cores are different. In fact they don't even really have elemental cores. Instead Demi-Gods have their elemental power thrumming all through their bodies, which is also why they cannot ever master any particular element the way true Elementals can.

I keep one eye on Tyson, because he is so important.

I use the rest of my concentration to pull my element up through my body. My ring starts to turn ice cold around my finger. I feel the power flow through it and down to the seawater beneath my hand.

A strip of water rises up and twists around my arm. I move back over to Tyson, motioning for the stream of water to follow. I concentrate on making the water twist into the shape of a spring, and then I push it forward so it's hovering over Tyson.

My brother not of blood, but of soul and love and laughter and strength and trust, looks up at me. His blue eyes study the twirling spindle of water above him. He reaches his hands up to touch it, his small arms straining.

I lower the water close enough for him to touch. Tyson runs his tiny fingers along the edges of the water spiral. His eyes are bright and blue and contrast with his darker hued skin. I see both Adam and Dalia in those eyes, on that face. I hear Adam's laughter in Tyson's laughter. I feel Dalia's strength in Tyson's strength.

Tyson Adam Brooks is more important than he could ever know. I imagine myself, ten years, twenty years, thirty years, down the line. I imagine talking to an older version of the child led below me. He would be tall and broad like Adam. He would have Dalia's eyes, set in the same delicately oval face. He would be beautiful and strong and kind and his smile would be wide and open.

Tyson will have Draco's courage, because Tyson is bound to get roped into at least a few of Draco's zany adventures along the way.

Tyson will have Hermione's strength. Her stubborn streak is impossible not to admire. He will also have her love for learning, because she will make it so.

Tyson will have my understanding of the world and all the people in it. He will know how to protect himself and the people he loves, the way I strive to do every day.

Tyson laughs, his eyes shine, and he looks at me. Trust and joy and knowledge that a baby shouldn't have.

But Tyson is no ordinary baby.

No.

Tyson Adam Brooks is my brother.

 **Draco's P.O.V**

 _Dear Draco,_

 _I went into the city today. It took us four hours to get there. Dragons do not tend to live near cities. Or even towns. They prefer the seclusion of the desert or the forest or the mountains. I think I do as well. Cities are loud. And there far too many human beings flopping around._

 _I met a Zaqin-Zar Dragon for the first time yesterday. The Dragon's name was Jarron. There are only six of them alive in the world at the moment. Zaqin-Zar dragons have large red scales, all different shades of red all over their body. One thing my superiors failed to mention beforehand was that Zaqin-Zar Dragons also have crimson red eyes. It was quite a shock, I'll admit._

 _Anyway, I visited the closest city and stayed there overnight. Muggle hotels are quite strange places, I must say. I was wondering, since you were raised in a muggle household, what exactly is the black box with a window of glass in the middle of it. A woman who worked there told me I needed to use another rectangular box to make whatever it is work. She touched something on the small rectangular black box and suddenly there were moving pictures inside the glass of the bigger black box._

 _It was rather odd. Can you explain? What is it used for?_

 _I'm glad you're having a great summer._

 _Charlie_

 _Dear Charlie,_

 _Zaqin-Zar Dragon! Woah, I've read about those. They're supposed to be able to breathe purely red fire. I don't remember reading anything about their eyes being red though. Are you sure that's natural? Could Jarron be some kind of Demon Dragon sent from the cages of hell to avenge all Dragon kind? Azure is always telling me that will happen someday. He says it will happen even sooner if I don't stop my new baby brother from chewing on his tail any time he goes near the 'foul little beast'._

 _The big black box is called a 'Television' and the small black box is the 'remote' which controls the 'Television'. TV is used for…um…entertainment I guess. You can use it to watch things made by other people. Like films._

 _This has been the best summer ever. Even though Hermione is being super bossy because she misses learning how to beat people up. And Harry's being all quiet and thoughtful and secretive. So pretty much no change on that side of things._

 _Also, 'too many people'? Aren't you a Weasley?_

 _Draco_

 _Dear Draco,_

 _What are 'films'?_

 _My baby brothers used to chew and knaw on everything they could get their hands on. They'd put anything in sight into their mouths. It used to drive Mum potty._

 _I asked my boss if the red eye thing is normal. He said 'yes'. I asked him if he was sure, because it seemed a little weird to me. My boss said 'Dragons are weird', and then he stalked off. My boss is a man of few words._

 _Did you talk to your Ma about trying out for the Xenta team this year?_

 _And yes, I have far too many siblings. That's how I learnt to dislike being around big crowds of people in the first place._

 _Charlie_

 _Dear Charlie,_

 _Films are kind of like plays. But on a TV screen. Imagine a load of magik moving pictures strung together one after another. I think. Ask your Dad, he's better at explaining muggle stuff to Wizards. I always just end up confusing myself and everyone around me._

 _Ty likes to chew on a lot of things too. Except it's not really chewing because he's got no teeth yet. He does drool a lot though. Like, seriously, there's drool and nappies all over the house. Babies take up a lot of space for such small humans._

 _Your boss sounds like Harry. He's taken to not even answering me with words now. Instead I get face twitches and uninterested murmuring._

 _I did talk to Dalia about me playing Xenta. She kind of flipped a lid about it at first. But I managed to wear her down. I made an Xenta plan-of-action presentation. With pictures. And pie charts. And factual statistics about Xenta injuries and death rates._

 _Adam thought it was a good presentation. He clapped and whistled at the end. Hermione berated my use of pie charts over bar charts, which are apparently a lot more efficient and professional (bleh). Harry gave me an indulgent smile and then went back to…plotting the demise of his enemies…or whatever else it is that he does. Tyson laughed and blew a drool bubble. Azure said Xenta is stupid because any creature that doesn't already have wings shouldn't be flying around anyway because it's unnatural. And creepy._

 _Dalia just stared at me for a really long time. Then she sighed. A lot._

 _But after Dalia got all that sighing out of the way she agreed to let me try out for the team and play if I got on it. On a trial basis. I wasn't really sure what that meant. Dalia said it means that if I cause any trouble this year then she'll ban me from playing Xenta ever again. I said that wasn't really fair because she knows I'm going to get into some kind of trouble. Dalia said she knows that. I called her devious. Dalia smirked. I always wondered where Harry got his smirk from._

 _Draco_

 _Dear Draco,_

 _I never ask my father about his work. He'll talk for hours about muggles and all the contraptions they use. Mum sent over a care package a few months ago and Dad put in a device he called a 'torch'. I have no idea what to do with it. I sent a letter to Dad asking him what a 'torch' is used for. He sent a message back saying simply 'flip the switch'. I refused to dignify that with a response. I assume 'flip the switch' is some kind of muggle catchphrase._

 _Babies do take up a lot of space. Trust me. I remember when we had both Ron and Ginny rolling around the burrow. It was pure chaos. Of course Fred and George didn't help by causing all kinds of mischief even when they were little. I swear something exploded in our house at least once a day._

 _'I always just end up confusing myself and everyone around me.' I'm pretty sure that sums up your entire personality, D._

 _I think you'd be ace at Xenta. I played on the house team when I was in school. It was fun, and Mum hated it, which at the time felt like a bonus. Ask Fred and George for help, I know they play on the Gryffindor team._

 _I'm actually really looking forward to meeting your family one day. They sound pretty wicked. Weird. But then, so are you. I guess that comes with the territory right? But I'm especially interested in meeting Harry. You talk about him a lot._

 _Charlie_

 _Dear Charlie,_

 _That would be so cool! I'd love to meet you in person! Like with your actual face talking with real life words so close to my actual face as I speak real life words back to you. Epic!_

 _Bring the torch home with you and I'll explain. I'm not sure how to describe it in a letter._

 _I'm going to burrow tomorrow so I can talk to Fred and George then. Your Mum is taking me and your family to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies._

 _I'm not weird!_

 _Ok, that was a lie. My inner voice just scoffed at me._

 _Draco_

…..

"You will behave for Mrs Weasley. _All_ of you will." Dalia warns us, her eyes narrowing on me, then Harry, and finally Hermione. She crosses her arms and continues, "I do not want to hear about any explosions or fires or floods or fighting. You will be polite and nice and calm at all times, is that clear?"

Harry stands his ground and just stares at Dalia, that endlessly frustrating bored look on his face. He must practice that in the mirror, there's no way someone could exude that much 'whatever' on their face naturally with just one look.

Hermione is leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. She's wearing skin-tight black jeans, a close fitted black vest top, black boots and a black leather jacket. Her hair is still cut short. She looks like one of those girls from an action film. Hermione's expression is serious and just a bit intimidating. All her movements appear fluid and cat-like.

I tilt my head to one side and say,

"What do you mean by explosions? I've never exploded anything."

Dalia turns the full power of her stare onto me and I wince a little on the inside. Whoops.

"Oh really, how about those fireworks last year?"

I roll my eyes,

"That doesn't count. Fireworks are _supposed_ to explode."

Dalia's jaw twitches,

"Not inside an ice cream van, they aren't."

I roll my shoulders back and say,

"In my defense…..the ice cream man started it."

"Oh not this again," Dalia says, shaking her head.

"He ran over my bike on purpose!" I growl, still outraged by the memory.

Dalia pulled out her most stern 'Mum' look and I fight the urge to curl up into a ball to shield myself from being sufficiently scolded. Harry and Hermione both start snickering.

Dalia suddenly turns on them and snaps,

"I don't know what you two are giggling about. I am fully aware that _someone_ ," she looks more pointedly at Hermione, "punched and kicked three holes into a wall and then tried to cover them up with posters. I do not want a Teletubbie poster hanging in our living room." Hermione's jaw clenches and her arms tighten around herself.

Dalia shifts the pointed look over to Harry, "Oh, and _someone_ else froze all the water in the pipes, causing a plumbing nightmare that rivals even the great sock in a drain incident of 89'."

Harry appears unaffected by the accusation, and he simply says,

"Homework."

Dalia lets out another one of those long suffering sighs. She doesn't even bother trying to stare Harry down. Dalia knows it's pointless when Harry is in a stubborn mood.

"I mean it, you three. I will not have you badly influencing the Weasley's. Do not cause trouble." Dalia says firmly, her gaze unwaveringly serious.

To be fair to Dalia, she has good cause to worry. It's not like me, Harry and Hermione haven't gone to other people's houses before. We don't exactly have the best track record with things like that though.

I mean there was that one time when we all got invited to a neighbour boy's ninth birthday party at his house. The boy's name was Danny Taylor. I knew him from school. He was one of the meaner children, and he hated me in particular. Not because of anything I'd actually done to him, but because I was Harry's brother. Danny thought of himself as Harry's school rival. Harry refused to acknowledge Danny at all, rival or otherwise.

Of course that only served to incense Danny even more, and he took every available opportunity to mess with me, just to spite Harry.

I don't know exactly what sparked the hatred between Danny and Harry. But I assume, since I know Harry, that it was probably something along the lines of Danny attempting to befriend Harry, and Harry refusing to become the friend of a bully like Danny.

Anyway, Danny invited everyone in our year, including me, Harry and Hermione. That was definitely a mistake. Harry didn't want to go, and neither did Hermione really. But I wanted to because my actual friends would be there too. So Harry and Hermione decided to go along with me.

I'm sure they thought they were doing it to protect me or some other such nonsense.

To cut a long story short, there was a massive food fight (started by Danny and won by Harry once he'd brought all the other children over to his side and led them to victory. They chanted Harry's name whilst they pelted Danny with clumps of his own birthday cake. It was brutal.). The barbecue also ended up setting fire to the Taylor's rather large, and expensive, wooden fence (allegedly my fault, although I argued that point for months afterward. I refused to stand by and watch them openly cook dead animal parts in front of other live animals. It was just wrong.). Hermione got into a fight with Danny's older sister, ending in a broken nose for Danny's sister and a black eye for Hermione (Danny' sister was threatening me and Harry, so Hermione took it upon herself to defend us. With her fists in Danny's sister's face.).

Dalia pretty much banned us from visiting other people's houses together after that.

But now the Weasley's have invited me, Hermione and Harry over to burrow so that they can take us to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies. It was very nice of Mr and Mrs Wealsey to do that. I don't know how we would have managed otherwise. I'd explained the problem to Ron, and he mentioned it to his mother. Mrs Weasley had immediately contacted us, wanting to speak with Dalia.

"Don't be too hard on them, Lia." Adam suddenly appears from around the corner. He's holding little Ty in his arms.

Adam has a big grin on his face as he looks at us. Even with all the sleep deprivation, Adam hasn't stopped smiling and laughing since we came home from Hogwarts. I think he enjoys having us all home as a family just as much as Dalia does.

Dalia gives her husband a fond, but exasperated, smile. Adam moves closer to Dalia and kisses her temple gently. Love shines brightly in his kind brown eyes. Dalia leans into him and places a hand on his arm. Their eyes catch each other's and I watch as they convey with every second that passes how united they are.

I love my parents. I know I'm lucky to have them. Not many people can say that they hope to have a relationship like their parent's one day.

"It's all your fault they've turned into menaces, husband." Dalia says, her words accusing but her tone sweet.

Adam smiles widely at that and winks at us,

"Only because you love trouble, wife."

"I must do," Dalia says, her gaze skating over each of us in turn before returning to Adam. "I must love trouble, because otherwise I never would have married the only person other than me who was mad enough to want to adopt three magikal children."

Adam pouts just a little bit,

"Who are you calling mad? I like to think myself the very height of normality, thank you very much miss."

Dalia arches one eyebrow,

"You can think whatever you choose, love, but that won't save you when the nice people with the strait jackets come for us."

"I think we should be insulted by this." I say to my siblings.

Hermione snorts out a brief laugh and Harry just shakes his head slightly, a small smirk on his face.

…..

"Oh Gods!" A little girl I recognise as Ron's sister shrieks, and she runs away.

We'd only arrived at the burrow five minutes ago. Ron's little sister came scampering in asking Mrs Weasley something. As soon as she caught sight of me and my siblings however her eyes went wide and she couldn't escape fast enough.

"Is your sister ok?" I ask, concerned.

Ron rolls his eyes at me and says,

"Yeah, she's fine. Your brother probably just frightened her with his magik and his scowl of impending doom."

We both look over at Harry, who spares us an unimpressed look, but doesn't comment.

Mrs Weasley gave me a big hug when I first arrived and kissed me on the cheek. It was nice and it made me feel all warm inside when she smiled at me like I was something special. She tried to hug Harry and Hermione too, but they both dodged that bullet by holding onto each other and stepping swiftly away.

They're so weird and anti-social. It's a good thing most of their friends are weird and anti-social too, or I'd be worried about them.

However Hermione does get shepherded into the kitchen with Mrs Weasley since apparently she needs some help baking a cake for tea tonight. It does not go unnoticed that she doesn't ask Harry to help. I think about mentioning some helpful information regarding gender roles in the family household. I did a project on it once in primary school.

Hermione stopped me though by talking loudly over me and stomping even more loudly away and into the kitchen. She sends an incredulous glare over her shoulder at me. I frown in confusion. What? People need to be informed, otherwise how will they ever understand?

Harry, on the other hand, is actually quite quickly surrounded by George and Fred, who both insist on showing Harry something upstairs. From the identical smirks on their faces, and the look of challenge on Harry's, I can tell that things probably won't end well. I'd hate to be Harry if he breaks Dalia's no explosions rule, when, not if, the twins try to prank him.

"Want to go outside? We have a few Xenta boards. They're old, but they work." Ron says, looking a little sheepish about it for some reason.

I smile brightly at him,

"Yeah, that'd be wicked. We can practice for when we try out for the team this year."

Ron swallows thickly and his shrug is bashful,

"I'm pretty sure the only second year who'll get on the team is you, Draco, but yeah ok."

I frown at little at my friend as he leads me outside. When we're some ways into the field surrounding their house, I reach over to place a hand on his shoulder. I pull him around to face me and squeeze his shoulder so he'll look me in the eye when I say,

"You have just as much chance as anyone else in our year, mate."

Ron quirks an eyebrow at me and smiles peculiarly,

"You really are an odd bloke, Draco."

I frown at Ron, not quite understanding what he means.

"What, for being nice to my friend? Oh yeah, so _weird_. I should be like a Slytherin and be nice to my enemies instead so I can lure them into my web of secrets and Slytheriney-ness."

Ron snorts out a laugh,

"Shut up. It's just that you're so….I dunno. Strange. But in a good way." Ron hastens to add, his cheek flushing a startling shade of red.

A slow smile spreads over my face.

"Ok Ronald Margaret Weasley, whatever you say."

Ron huffs out an irritated breathe,

"My middle name is not _Margaret_."

"I know. But it should be." I say.

Ron narrows his eyes at me and says,

"Oh, alright then Draco _Sandra_ Black."

"That is a brilliant name!" I say, clasping my hands together enthusiastically.

Ron gives me a look of death,

"It's, like, _impossible_ to mock you. You are _unmockable_."

"On the flip side it's very easy to mock _you_." I say with a tease grin.

Ron smacks my shoulder and says,

"I don't know how you've survived this long being as annoying as you are."

"Hermione tells me I charm people with my starry rainbow smiles and my unicorn aura."

Ron shakes his head, clearly disturbed about something.

"That shouldn't make any sense at all. But it kind of does anyway."

Ron seems to flush even more under the apparent power of my grin. He forced himself to look away and continue walking towards a rather dirty looking shed near the other side of the field.

I follow after him, telling myself not to skip. I don't want to scare Ron any more than I clearly already have today.

Ron shows me the Weasley's Xenta boards. He looks a bit embarrassed about it for some reason. I don't get why though. I'd love to have an Xenta board. Even a slightly shabby looking one would be great.

It's as easy as breathing to rise into the air on my Volant board. My element of fire surges through me with renewed vitality. I can feel each of my nerve endings burning like the tip of a match. Nothing could ever compare the freedom of flying. I soar up into the air and let out a loud 'whoop' as the wind rushes around me, slowly down my progress somewhat.

Ron rises a little more unsteadily on his board, but soon he's meeting me high up in the air. I'm unable to contain the bubble of joyous laughter that spills from my mouth. Ron joins in rather quickly, our mutual happiness colouring the world around us.

We both fly over the burrow and the surrounding fields for a few hours. I think I could fly all day, for the rest of my life, and never get bored or tired of the feeling that it inspires inside me.

The burrow itself is a strange and wonderful place. There's an illusion covering Ron's house to make it look like a nice smallish cottage. But once you get past the illusion you can see that the house is actually made of crystal. A bit similar to Hogwarts, but not nearly as grand or imposing.

Ron and Katie told me that most Wizarding families, especially the older ones, have houses or mansions made of marble and crystal.

The Weasley's home is beautiful in its own way. It's understated and warm. The crystal structure is mostly hazel coloured. Although there are some dashes of red here and there. Inside the burrow is much the same. More gold and honey coloured crystal. Some brown marble too.

Being inside the burrow does feel more inviting to me than the interior of muggle houses do. I know it must have something to do with the crystal and how it reacts to our magik, but I'm not sure how to ask Ron about it.

Perhaps I'll ask Charlie instead. He's usually very helpful when I ask questions about the wizarding world and the way it works so differently to the muggle one.

After a while Harry comes wandering out of the house, his steps purposeful. He stops by the wooden fence blocking the nearest field. I watch as he looks up at me and smiles just a tiny bit. Heat and happiness blooms inside of me at the sight. Harry hasn't smiled at me like that for the whole summer.

I wonder for a moment why he's chosen this moment to stop being all distant and weird. More so than usual I mean. Harry's always been, from what I can remember, quite an aloof and secretive person. Even as a young child, when he and I first met, I could see how he was with other people.

Harry treated me differently though. I could see that too. He talked to me in a way he never talked to anyone else, let alone other children. He liked having me close and he protected me against…well, anything he perceived to be a threat.

But since what happened in the forest that night, I've been getting a taste of the way he's treated everyone else all these years.

And I hated it.

I never quite realised how much I took Harry's presence in my life for granted. Part of me just thought he would always love me and want me more than anyone else. It wasn't a conscious thought, of course, but down in the depths of my soul I thought it to be true anyway.

I was Harry's. I belonged to him. It was a truth I'd known since the moment we'd been thrown into each other's lives.

I knew I belonged to Harry and because of that he would always protect me and he would always trust me to see his vulnerabilities and never hurt him in return.

Things have changed though. For both of us.

I found that I am no longer content to stand behind Harry and allow him to put me in a cage of protection.

It seems that Harry is now no longer content to chase after me and put up with my antics the way he used to.

Maybe it's a good thing. It could give us both the chance to strike out into the world by ourselves.

I think I might also be lying to myself.

Harry's eyes lock with mine.

 _I love you Harry. I love you and I don't understand this distance you've created between us._ My eyes say.

 _I love you too Draco. More than you could ever possibly know._ Harry's eyes say right back.

Harry looks away then, and he walks back inside without a backward glance.

I grit my teeth and push away the stinging sensation currently attacking my eyes.

 **Hermione's P.O.V**

"You know you've officially made an enemy out of the Weasley twins now, right?" I say to my wayward brother.

Harry doesn't react in any other way than a slight twitch to his lips.

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean, HG." Harry says, his voice devoid of any obvious emotion.

I'm not exactly sure what the Weasley twins tried to do to Harry when they took him upstairs. But whatever it was, they soon regretted it when Harry somehow managed to use his telekinesis to hang them upsidedown from the marble rafters. I'm also not sure how he froze them up there only using one glass of discarded water.

It's a mystery I'm not all that worried about solving. I don't feel any sympathy for the Weasley twins. Anyone who tries to attack Harry, friendly or not, deserves what they get in return.

Harry, of course, refuses to talk about it or admit to any wrongdoing.

Ron Weasley thought the whole thing was hilarious. He's been teasing his brothers ever since they got down off the ceiling. But I also see him giving Harry sideway glances. There's fear in his eyes. I've seen the same look levelled at Harry enough times now to be used to the coil of aversion that settles in my stomach every time.

Harry may be a lot of things, some of them unpleasant, but he isn't some kind of monster to be feared. He's only a twelve year old boy for Christ sake, no matter how powerful or intimidating he is.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was just children who reacted to Harry that way. But I've seen full grown adults flinch away from him. It's ridiculous.

All negative thoughts aside, I'm glad to be back in Diagon Alley. It's still amazingly stunning here. All the shops are beautiful and strange. Some look more ominous than others. It feels a lot different to the last time I was here though.

I know I'm not an Elemental now. All the element symbolism smacks me if the face a little bit. But I also notice shops that are obviously geared towards God-blooded people. Small book shops with hundreds of books about the Gods, fancy weapon shops, and shops advertising God related artefacts.

There were quite a few things we needed to get for another year at Hogwarts. It's taken us a few hours to go around all the shops. All we need now are a stack of books by the same author. A man named Gilderoy Lockhart.

Mrs Weasley takes us to the right shop where Gilderoy Lockhart is apparently hosting a book signing. Harry appears reluctant, and I have to say I share the sentiment. I've read one of his books before, or at least I tried to. It was positively insane. The whole thing read like outrageous fiction, but it's supposed to be read like an autobiography.

I mean honestly, if it's that easy to a famous author then I should just write about my first year at Hogwarts. If people actually read the drivel Lockhart is selling then I should have no problem at all.

I say this to Harry and he actually cracks a smile. It's the first real smile I've seen on his face all summer.

Something's different about Harry. I'm not sure exactly how to describe it. He's always been withdrawn. He's always had that darkness in his eyes, on his face, burning the edges of his very being black.

Is my brother a monster? No

Could my brother grow up to be a very dangerous and powerful man? Yes.

Will my brother allow that power and that danger to turn him into a monster?

Now that…. _that_ is a question I cannot answer. It is a question I would not want to answer. Not even in my wildest nightmares.

That isn't what concerns me though. I'm more worried about Harry's relationship with Draco. They've been more than just 'close' for a long time. In fact I don't think there are words that exist in this world that could adequately describe what Harry and Draco are to each other. My brothers share a bond more powerful than two lovers, far stronger than any friendship, and even deeper than what binds a family together.

Harry is pushing Draco away though. I can see it. A tiny tear in their bond. I'm afraid of what will happen if that tiny tear turns into a much bigger one. I'm afraid of what will happen if Harry breaks away from Draco for some reason. I'm afraid that if that happens, Draco might actually let it. I'm afraid Harry will turn around one day, expecting Draco to be there like he always has been before, and Draco will be gone. I'm afraid Draco will move on with his life and better off for it. I'm afraid he'll lose faith in Harry and start to condemn him the way everyone else seems to.

Most of all I'm afraid of what Harry James Potter could become without the unwavering love and loyalty of Draco Sirius Black.

I hope with everything in me that such a situation will never exist in reality.

All the Weasley's shuffle, or trample, into the book shop. I'm about to follow after them when quite suddenly my arm starts to burn with pain. I grit my teeth to stop myself from making any annoying yelping noises.

I bring my wrist up and press it against my chest, my other hand squeezing my arm as if that'll make any difference. I realise rather quickly that the scar Magesith gave me with his tail is the thing that's throbbing painfully.

Both Harry and Draco notice my reaction straight away. Harry takes one look at my face and his eyes instantly harden. Storm clouds gather in those green iris' and if I weren't concentrating on the scar on my arm then I might even be a little troubled by it.

"What the flip is going on?" Draco asks, his voice a tinkling bell of concern.

Harry knows, because somehow he always does.

"Your scar? It's hurting. Magesith is here." Harry says. He sounds quietly angry, but also resigned to our fate of having to deal with that cat-like creature again.

Draco's strange eyes widen, lighning crackling around inside his iris, and for a moment he looks pleased. The concern quickly returns though, and so does some outrage on my behalf. A look in his eyes promises doom to anyone who would hurt his sister, scary magikal God-cat or not.

Harry and Draco leads off around the corner to a deserted alleyway. Dalia's warning about not getting into trouble momentarily forgotten. Draco makes sure no one is paying attention to us. They aren't, which is a small miracle considering we're all famous now thanks to the bloody prophet and that insane woman Ritta Skeeter. I swear if I ever meet that woman in person I'm going to kick her arse for the vile things she's written about my family.

Harry manages to pry the arm I'm clutching away from my chest. He examines the scar carefully. It stings even more veraciously when Harry runs his thumb over the jagged scar. Nausea threatens when the pain becomes even more intense. But then quite suddenly the pain is gone and only a faint ache is left in it's place. I don't understand why the pain is gone.

Not until I hear a horribly familiar voice purr,

"Hello again my little victims of destiny."

Draco and Harry crowd in closer to me, the three of us grasping onto each other instinctively. Our eyes dart around the narrow alley, trying to see where Magesith might be hiding.

I frown in frustration and confusion when I can't see him anywhere even with my superior eyesight.

"What do you want?" I ask, feeling ridiculous for speaking out loud to thin air. But I know Magesith is here. I can feel it in my blood, right down to my bones. My insides quake with that intense level of awareness.

Silence follows my question and I feel Harry's body become tighter and tighter with each second that passes. Draco appears more curious than anything, but his expression is still wary.

Just when I'm beginning to think I'll snap and explode with barely contained tension, Magesith's voice returns and it sounds closer this time.

"I have come to collect my favour God-blooded one. You will not deny me."

I want to snarl at the creature to leave me and my brothers alone. I want to scream at him for forcing me to gamble with my brother' lives as well as the lives of my friends. I do not trust Magesith, not even a little bit. Harry gave me books he'd already read with chapters written about Magesith. The more I read, the more positive I became that making a deal with Magesith is very akin to making a deal with Satan himself.

But even so, I gave my word. I can't back out now. Besides, I would die anyway if I did try to resist. The books about deals with Fae, or Fae-like creatures, was very clear about that. If you make a deal with a Fae, you must honour it. Your own magik will rise up and destroy you otherwise.

"Tell me what it is you want from me." I say, finally.

Harry lets out a low growl, and his magik begins to buzz like a hornets nest all around us. Draco looks between me and Harry, both determination and concern on his face. It's an odd combination, even for Draco.

I can practically hear the smirk in Magesith's voice when he simpers,

"Tell you? Why, silly child, I intend to _show_ you."

I don't have any time to react, and neither do Harry and Draco, before all three of us are swept up in a wave of pure magik. It feels similar to one of those magikal portals we seem to keep stumbling into. Although the ride isn't quite as uncomfortable or disconcerting.

I see nothing but silver light surrounding me, as if I've been swallowed whole by the moon itself.

* * *

 ** _Thank you to everyone for reading! Please review!_**


	3. The Fae Homeland

**I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM! JK ROWLING DOES THOUGH!**

* * *

 **The Fae Homeland**

 **Hermione's P.O.V**

My whole body feels like it's being torn apart from the inside. Ice cold claws scrape and tear and rip at my flesh. It's excruciatingly intense. I want to escape, run, explode, fight. _Something._

All I can see is pure white light surrounding me from every angle. Harry, Draco and Magesith have disappeared. I'm alone. Alone in the painful light. Its swallowing me whole. Skin tight over my bones. Heart shuddering with every beat. Veins pulsing with blood that suddenly feel too heavy. I'm drowning in a light so pure that it burns.

A star is collapsing, turning into a black hole of despair, and I'm at the centre of it.

Just when I think my heart will freeze inside my chest, those ghost-like claws chasing me into death, I land with an ungraceful thud on something hard and rough. The world spins as I desperately try not to pass out from exhaustion and shock. I realise that I can move again, no longer restrained by ice-filled limbs.

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut for a few more moments. My fingers spread out, reaching for something familiar. The ground beneath me is cold and uneven. I'm just so sodding grateful that there actually **_is_** a ground that I can touch. I prod at the jagged surface, and swipe my fingers across it a few dozen times, just to reconfirm its existence.

I'm on my knees, well on my hands and knees now. I risk opening one eye, but then quickly close it again. I was really hoping this was all just a dream and that I'd wake up at home, or at least not here. Wherever here technically is.

"Are you quite finished behaving in such a melodramatic manner?" I recognise the bored, dryly mocking voice.

 _Magesith._

I open both my eyes fully this time. The sight that greets me is no less insane the second time around. I blink fast enough to give myself a headache, desperately trying to ignore the reality I'm now faced with. My mind can barely comprehend what I'm seeing, and I don't even really want it to.

I slowly get to my feet, half worried that I'll fall right back over again if I'm not careful. I catch sight of Magesith, sitting with an eerie calmness on a large and pointy rock. He's watching me with uncaring eyes of bullet silver.

Diagon Alley has been left far behind. Instead of a deserted alley way, I'm now standing on a very small island of rocks. Almost like a giant rock pool. There's nothing else around us but dark, foreboding, sea water. Angry sounding waves hit the rocks, causing droplets of water to reign down on me. I can smell the saltiness of the ocean, and taste the chilling coolness in the air.

The sky above me is jet black. No stars or moon in sight.

But, despite all of this, there is one thing that demands most of my attention. On the opposite side of the island of rocks is…well, I'm not even sure how to describe it. A slit of purple. A wall of rippling power. It looks like a portal to an otherworldly place. For all I know, it probably is. The wall reaches and disappears into the sky, but it's narrow.

In a strange way it reminds me of a being in a dark room and having the door slightly open, letting in a thin crack of light from the other side. The crack is dark purple and ripples like a thousand bubbles are trying to escape through it at the same time.

I've never seen anything quite so magnificently strange. Even with all the magik I've witnessed, nothing has ever seemed as…otherworldly as this.

I hear a groan from my right, and only then do I realise that Magesith and I are not alone here. Near a big cluster of rocks, partly obscuring my view of them, is Harry and Draco.

I'm both horrified and relieved to know that they are here, in this weird-arse place, with me.

I move around the rocks to get a better look at them. Harry is carefully helping Draco get to his feet. Draco looks a little wobbly, but he grins when he catches sight of me. Harry's expression though…it is that of a storm cloud looming overhead. My brother looks _pissed off_.

That does not bode well. For any of us.

Draco tries to take a step toward me, but his legs give out at the last second and he practically falls against Harry. Harry catches him and steadies Draco, wrapping his arm around his waist. Draco's grip on Harry tightens and he leans into him even more.

Harry appears surprised by this, or at least as surprised as Harry ever allows himself to look. His impossibly bright green eyes widen, and his jaw ticks. He squeezes Draco and holds onto him in a way that could only ever be described as 'possessive'. I've seen Harry pull that move a few times before, but after so many months of it seeming like Harry was avoiding Draco, it's a bit startling to see him touching Draco so intimately again.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asks me, his intense gaze focusing on me for the first time.

I almost flinch under the weight of his stare, but I still manage to reply,

"No. Just feel a bit weird."

Draco says with a disgruntled huff,

"I really hate portal travel, or whatever the hell that was."

I smile at how much Draco's thoughts mirror my own.

"Are you both ok?" I ask them worriedly.

"Fine." Harry says tightly, but the underlying irritation is easy to recognise in his voice.

"Feel like I've been trapped inside a giant tumble dryer for an hour." Draco says, although he doesn't sound all that bothered about it. "But I'm still alive, so that's good. Point one for team Black-Potter-Granger!" He punches a fist into the air.

Oh Christ sake. I can already tell what kind of day this is going to be if I have to deal with a majorly pissed off Harry and unnaturally optimistic Draco. I wish Ajax were here so I could ask him to knock me out, then I wouldn't have to pretend to be ok about any of this.

"Yes, yes, you're all fine and not at all dead, how wonderful." Magesith appears on a small rock in front of us in a wisp of silvery smoke. I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing Magesith's teeth. He looks like an exaggerated cartoon piranha.

Harry narrows his eyes at Magesith, and I can feel the aggression of his magik building around us. I can practically taste the acidic edge of it on my tongue. Harry's magik smells like charred wood and sea water. The feel of his magik makes my eyes sting to be so close to it. I want to step away, but there's not really anywhere to go. If I move backwards a few feet then I'd likely fall off the edge and into the water currently surrounding us.

I expect Harry to ask where are, or what Magesith has done to us. Or, more likely, he's demand we be returned home first. But Harry surprises me by asking instead,

"What do you want from us, foul creature?"

"Oh, _Harry Potter_ has a temper, I see." Magesith taunts carelessly. "The child of Destiny and his vicious shadow are coming out to _play_."

" ** _Enough_** Magesith." Draco commands, his voice deepening to almost the level he uses when he speaks the language of Dragons. The sound of it causes a shiver to run and down my spine. When Draco speaks that way it gives me a peek into the future, showing me the man he could one day become.

Magesith tilts his head and whips his pointed bone tail out at us. His silver eyes fill with malicious joy.

"As you wish Dragon Lord. Far be it from me to upset the future enemy of our Varkaz." Magesith's tittering takes on a whimsical quality.

Draco, Harry and I all exchange looks of confusion, but before any of us can ask what in the world Magesith is talking about, the silver beast continues,

"The God-blooded child owes me a boon. I have come to collect."

"Yes, we got that part." Draco says, waving a dismissive hand. "But what do you want us to actually _do_?"

Harry is still seething barely trained fury, but his magik has relaxed it's chokehold on the air at least a little bit. I give all the credit for that to Draco, as always.

Magesith brings one of her paws up and flashes razor-sharp claws that look more like talons. His grin is deadly and full of casual torment. I have no doubt that Magesith could draw screams from the mouths of even the bravest warriors.

"This is The Veil." Magesith tells us, indicating the slit of purple that appears to be a crack in the fabric of reality. "Otherwise known as 'The Gateway' to the Fae's homeland. Beyond it is whole new world. The Fae's world." Magesith pauses for a moment, as if allowing us time to process what we've been told. After a moment however he explains further. "Within that world there are two kingdoms, Summer and Winter, and two royal courts known to most as Seelie and Unseelie."

"I've heard about the different courts." Harry says shrewdly. "Unseelie occupy the Winter kingdome and the Seelie take up the Summer kingdom."

"I thought the Fae had tribes, not kingdoms." I say uncertainly.

"Stupid child." Magesith scolds sharply. His tails flicks, almost catching me on the shoulder. "There different species of Fae. Only the Fearies call themselves tribes."

"Then what species of Fae holds court in the Summer and Winter kingdoms." I snap back at him, my patience wearing thinner and thinner with every second I have to stand here staring at Magesith.

Magesith sighs as if I'm just too troublesome to deal with and I have to suppress the urge to reach out and strangle the vile beast with my own two hands.

Thankfully, it isn't Magesith who replies to my questions. Instead Draco takes up the explaining baton with gusto.

"Walter actually recommended I read a book about Fae species and their heritage. I didn't think much about it at the time, but I'm glad I read it now." Draco takes a deep breath and goes on, apparently excited at being able to reveal his extensive knowledge. "There are six basic species of Fae; Fearies, Pixies, Goblins, Elves, Nixies and Sprites. Fearies operate separately from the rest and usually remain within their chosen tribe. Goblins and Elves were banished from the Fae homeland when they revealed themselves to humans over two thousand years ago. Sprites live mostly within the woodland areas of the Fae homeland. They are particularly well populated in the Shadow Wood which separates the Winter kingdom from the Summer kingdom. Pixies hold court in the Summer Kingdom. Nixies rule over the Winter kingdom."

"Very good, Dragon Lord." Magesith praises with just the right amount of mocking. "At least one of you won't be going into this completely blind."

Harry gives Draco a look that is a cross between exasperated and fond.

"Oh yes, all praise Draco and his obsession with dangerous magikal creatures."

Draco turns to Harry, an impish grin on his face, and teases,

"Of course, why do you think I like _you_ so much? You're the most dangerous magikal creature there is."

I snort out a laugh at the glare Harry gives Draco in response to that one.

"I don't know why I put up with you." Harry says, shaking his head at Draco.

"Ah, because you love me best." Draco says in a sing-song voice. He reaches out towards Harry, as if he might actually risk hugging him.

Even I wouldn't be that brave right now.

Harry bats Draco away, but he doesn't snap at him like he would anyone else. Actually, if anyone else tried to hug Harry without prior warning then that person would most likely end up frozen into a human icicle.

"I have a task I need to be completed." Magesith cuts in, sounding bored again. "I could always just send the God-blooded sibling alone, but-"

"No." Harry says firmly and without any inflection. "Where Hermione goes, we go."

Draco nods readily in agreement.

"Marvellous." Magesith declares brilliantly. "Then I will explain what needs to be done, and send you on through The Veil."

"Oh deep joy." I mutter under my breath.

Magesith either doesn't notice, unlikely, or simply doesn't care, more probably. I don't believe the creature cares much for anything except his own plots. I have no idea what a millennia old cat does for entertainment. Clearly terrorising school children is part of it though.

Harry, Draco and I lean in closer to more accurately hear what Magesith is going to tell us. Harry doesn't look impressed at all by the situation. Draco, quite comically, appears excited, or at least curious. All I feel is the gnawing omen of impending doom. This whole thing cannot possibly end well.

Magesith appears amused by our varying behaviour, but he begins speaking again without commenting on it.

"I need the three of you retrieve something for me. It is being held in the Winter kingdom. You will have to break into the Royal Secrets Chamber to steal it."

Harry makes a frustrated sound, running a hand through his already messy hair. He gives Magesith a pointed glare.

"Ok, putting aside for a moment how insane this all is, and how the hell you expect us to break into the Winter court undetected-"

"I can give you each a glamour that will enable you to move through the Fae homeland as any other Fae would." Magesith offers.

"A glamour?" Draco asks.

"It's a very powerful illusion." Harry says warily, giving Magesith an even deeper look of suspicion than usual. "But even without worrying about the rest of it." Harry continues "There's still the question of what is it that we're meant to be 'retrieving' exactly?"

Magesith's grin turns even more sinister, which I actually didn't think was possible, so way to go creepy cat monster I suppose.

"I need you to steal a book." Magesith tells us.

"A…. _book_?" I say, eyeing Magesith sceptically.

Magesith just tilts his head from side to side and says,

"Well, I believe your people would refer to it as a….journal? No, something else….."

"A _diary_?" I suggest.

Magesith's eyes flash liquid silver in my direction.

"Ah, yes. The item I need you to steal is black leather bound _diary_."

"That doesn't really narrow it down much." Draco says thoughtfully, "They could potentially have dozens of normal black diaries lying around."

Magesith laughs, the sound scathingly cruel. He pierces Draco with a direct stare of dark amusment.

"Oh, you will be able to spot this one. There should be a name engraved on the front in gold."

"What name?" Draco asks, eyes wide with interest.

Magesith leans down even closer to Draco, whipping his tail around his head and pawing lightly at Draco's shoulder. His snake slitted eyes glow like two stars plucked directly from the sky. He says quietly, as if imparting a secret,

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."

 **Harry's P.O.V**

Passing through _The Veil_ is rather anti-climatic after the insanity of everything else. Much like portal travel, you feel as if you are being slowly burnt to death from the inside out. Although, unlike portal travel, once you pass a certain point that feeling of pure white hot fire turns into frost bite, the ice eating away at your heart slowly, but with a promise of unending agony. Altogether it is far from a pleasant experience.

But, even with all of that, I would still argue that fighting Voldemort was much worse, so I don't have much room for complaint.

Once we are thrown out the other side of The Veil, and I do mean literally thrown as if The Veil spat us out of its mouth in disgust. Magesith sets to work with our glamour's. There's no one else around, which gives us time to take in our surroundings without being observed. I am grateful for the reprieve, because otherwise I would not have been able to hide my own sense of awe.

Just as when we were first taken to Diagon Alley, I see a whole new world unfolding right in front of my eyes. Of course, this actually _is_ another world, so perhaps I shouldn't compare it to Diagon Alley. In fact, it would probably be an insult to compare this place to anywhere else.

If I really think about it, the only place this new world reminds of is that awful clearing where the Eris mirror once resided. But I don't want to pull those memories out of their safely concealed cages inside my head. Those particular memories can rot and die and turn to dust for all I care. I have no need of them. Unless it's to remind myself of what I almost lost that night.

I look over at Draco, who is staring in unrepentant amazement at the Fae's homeland. I can't really blame him, it is a marvellous place. Or at least what we've seen of it so far is. There's no way to tell if that will remain the case. But for now I can appreciate the beauty of this world in all of its unique majesty.

The sky above us is pure gold, adorned with two twin suns that burn both bright red and vibrant green. There are no clouds, but occasionally the sky will shimmer and bursts of what appear to be glittering smoke vapours will break through the gold and consume part of the atmosphere.

Below our feet is grass of the richest gold. Not yellow. Gold. Not far away there is a road of yellow brick that leads into a thick, dark, forest. The trees that I can see are very large and black as soot all over. Even the leaves are black, although some of them are tipped with gold. It is almost as if this part of the world is desperately reaching out and trying to possess the trees and its innate darkness.

There is nothing else around here. Off in the distance however, in the opposite direction of the forest, I can see the faint outline of what could be a citadel. It appears magnificent and glistening even this far away.

Hermione and Draco have already been glamoured by Magesith. I blink at them a few times in astonishment. I didn't realise what a difference only a few changes would make to their appearance.

The glamour seems to have had a greater impact on Hermione than Draco, probably because Draco already looks like he could be at least part Fae naturally. Now though Draco has pointed ears, slightly sharper cheek bones, and his eyes have been blown up to almost double their regular size. The ring of black within his powder blue iris' becomes even more prominent and seemingly ethereal. Put all those things together with his pale as bone skin and white-blond hair with ash black tips, and he looks like a Fae prince who has just stepped out of a fairy tale.

Hermione also has pointed ears, sharper cheek bones and much larger eyes. What she looks like now reminds me of one of those Asian anime cartoon girls. I think Hermione would kick my arse all the way back to our world if I actually told her that though.

Magesith turns his attention to me and I tense up when I feel a thick layer of magik envelope my body from head to toe. I glare in annoyance when Magesith smirks at my discomfort. I'm still thinking of ways I could skin that bloody cat. I give it a go as well if I weren't afraid Magesith would take us all down with him.

Draco gasps at the sight of me, and he exclaims in obvious excitement,

"You look _stunning_ , Bolt."

It takes all my will power and control not to blush like a prat.

Hermione smirks at me, which is almost as irritating as Magesith doing it.

They're all staring at me though and I hate it with a fierce passion that I cannot even begin to describe accurately.

"Are you all quite finished gawking at me like imbeciles yet?" I snap at them. The gits.

That just seems to amuse them all the more, and suddenly I hate them all and hope they get eaten by whatever evil creatures most likely inhabit this world.

"Don't you think I look pretty?" Draco asks me, her eyes going all sad and a bit dissapointed.

Hermione arches an eyebrow and simpers at me,

"Yes, HP, don't you think our **brother** Drake looks… _pretty_?"

I give Hermione a look that I hope conveys with absolute certainty that I despise her very existence in this moment.

Draco is staring at me hopefully, and for goodness sake, of course he looks, well not _pretty_ , more…..I don't know… _dazzling_. Beautiful. Elegant. All of those things. But I can't actually say that to him. For two reasons. One, because Hermione would mock me for the rest of my life, and my sister is like an elephant, she _never_ forgets. Two, because….well…that's just not the sort of thing you say to your _brother_ , adopted or otherwise.

Thankfully, and quite unexpectedly, I'm saved by Magesith. He apparently got bored watching me drown, and decided it was time to move forward with the…quest? Are we calling it a quest? A quest sounds about right for the ridiculousness of the situation as it stands at the moment. So, yes, we are now on a quest. Either that or we're on a mission to the distant moon of elected insanity.

"We are at the very edge of the Summer kingdom. You will need to travel through the Shadow wood to reach the Winter court." Magesith says, whilst floating in mid-air on a cloud of silver ash.

Bloody pretentious cat.

"How will we know where to go?" Draco asks, frowning pensively.

Magesith flicks his tail at the forest, which I assume to be the Shadow Wood. Then I realise Magesith is actually gesturing at the road leading into the Shadow Wood. The road of yellow bricks.

Oh, Gods, no.

But oh yes.

"Don't say it." I plead, knowing it will do no good.

Draco appears to clock on straight away, and his frown turns into a grin. Hermione also picks up on the significance, but just like me she seems less than impressed and groans, shaking her head.

Magesith knows, but pretends not to know, when he says caustically,

"Just follow the yellow brick road."

….

"Reckon we'll see any wicked witches?" Draco jokes only about two minutes into our journey through the Shadow Wood.

Magesith has already buggered off, saying he'll meet us back at The Veil when we have the diary. Part of me is glad that Magesith is gone, and another, very reluctant, part of me wishes he was here so he could at least make sure we don't run into any dangerous creatures in this bloody forest of the damned.

Once you enter the Shadow Wood, it almost seems to swallow you up. We haven't been walking for very long, but I've already lose sight of where we came in, even with the yellow brick road as a guide. I'd say I'm getting a bad feeling about all this, but that's been true since Magesith showed up in Diagon Alley and catnapped us.

"Oh don't start with that crap, Drake." Hermione retorts with a resigned sigh.

Draco just laughs and starts to do an exaggerated skip. He sings whimsically,

" _We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz_ -"

"I do not want to hear Wizard of Oz jokes all the way to the Winter kingdom, Dragon." I cut him off warningly.

Draco falls silent, heeding my command for once in his life. But he still skips, which is somehow even more exasperating than if he'd continued singing. Draco seems happy enough to amuse himself, the lunatic, without any added assistance from us. I decide to let it go, knowing this is the best compromise I'll get from him.

To spare my sanity, I fall back to walk alongside Hermione, allowing Draco to skip on ahead. The inside of the wood is dark and dense, but the yellow brick road cuts through quite nicely, offering us a clear path.

Hermione turns to me suddenly and says

"I'm so sorry about all this, HP. If I'd known back in the forbidden forest that we would end up forced to go on an insane expedition to steal a diary from probably very dangerous Fae, then I would never-"

I raise a hand to stop her.

"You would never have what?" I say evenly, "Made a deal with a sociopathic magikal cat to help save me and your friends? Come on, HG, it's not like you were given many choices. If it weren't for you, Draco would have…he would've…. _died_. Without Magesith's help I would not have reached him in time. You did what you had to do. We all did. If you feel like you need to blame yourself, then that's your business, but I do not blame you at all for the predicament we are now in."

Draco turns around and starts walking backwards. He apparently overheard what we were saying, because he calls out to Hermione,

"We may be on a dangerous and ridiculous thief run for a demented Wonderland cat reject, but we're in it together. I would rather be here with both of you, than lost inside a mirror, maybe being forced to watch you and Bolt deal with my death."

 _Deal_ with Draco's death? I can't even imagine a world where that would have been possible. It makes me feel ill just trying to think about it.

I reach over to take Hermione's hand and lock our fingers together. Draco follows my lead and wanders over to take hold of Hermione's other hand. Hermione squeezes my hand, and I imagine she's doing the same to Draco. We both smile gamely at her in return.

Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought. For the first time I feel hope bubble up inside me. In this oddly peaceful moment, I feel at ease.

"Ok, I don't know about you two boring people, but I definitely feel a group skip moment coming on."

And now it's ruined.

"We are not _skipping_ Drake!" Hermione growls at our grinning brother.

"Oh come on, we could skip as a _family_. A nice family skip." Draco argues coaxingly.

"There's no such thing as a 'family skip'." I say, rolling my eyes.

"Not _yet_." Draco says happily, "We could be ahead of the curve. Start a whole new trend."

He's an idiot. An absolute idiot.

Gods, I have no idea what I would do without these two weird and wonderful people in my life.

…..

We've been walking for two hours when we finally get attacked.

I knew it had to be coming. There was no way we could just walk through a Sprite infested forest and come out completely unscathed.

The further into the forest we walked, the darker it became. Eventually Draco had to whip us up a fire ball so that we would be able to see where we were going. He kept the fire ball alight, letting it bob between us almost like it was a third member of our group.

Not long after that we encountered out first swarm of Sprites. Apparently it was the light that attracted them to us.

The Sprites are about the same size as the Fearie I met last year. But instead of having blue skin, Sprites have skin the colour of bark from an oak tree. And their eyes are completely black, making them look like mini demons. They all have green or brown hair and their fingernails are sharpened into talons. Their wings are black and make me think of moths.

Draco, of course, was as excited as ever to meet a new species. He started babbling at them before the Sprites themselves could actually say anything. It took me hitting Draco over the head for him to shut up and let the Sprites introduce themselves.

I was on high alert at first, given our previous experience with the Fae. But it seemed all the Sprites wanted to do was marvel at Draco's fire ball. Draco created a few more for them enthused by their interest.

Hermione and I stood back and watched Draco impress a swarm of Sprites with his elemental power.

I was just glad they weren't attacking us.

That gladness died a swift death all the Sprites suddenly froze, in unison, and then scattered with lightning speed. I heard one of them squeak " _Barax_ " before flying away at top speed, disappearing into the darkness of the surrounding woodland.

What in the world is a 'Barax'?

Well, whatever it is, the Sprites don't sound too fond of it, which makes me feel even more wary. Sprites run this domain of the Fae homeland, it is their own kingdom of sorts, if not in the same way the Nixies and Pixies view _their_ kingdoms. What would Sprites be afraid of inside the forest they call home?

"Draco." I say quietly.

"Yeah?" Draco looks nervous, which also doesn't bode well.

Hermione has already gotten herself into a fighting position, her eyes methodically scanning the forest for any potential threats. I can almost hear her cursing the fact that she doesn't have a weapon on hand.

"What's a Barax?" I ask Draco, because if any of us would know, it'd be Draco.

Draco sucks in a harsh breath, causing the wariness inside me to explode into full on panic.

"A Barax is creature said to live inside the Shadow Wood." Draco says slowly.

"Any chance it's a misunderstood creature with a secret heart of gold?" Hermione asks.

Draco shakes his head and swallows loudly,

"No. Barax are killers by nature. They have the body of a very overgrown panther and the head of a wolf. Their bite is venomous."

Not so good then.

I take a small step toward Draco,

"We need to move-"

There! Right there! A flicker of movement amongst the shadows.

"Run." I hiss at Hermione and Draco. "Run now!"

Before I can even finish the last word, a creature the size of a large bear leaps out of the trees on our left side. I throw out my hand towards and send an ice shard hurtingling through the air in the same moment. The thick ice shard catches the creature mid-leap, and it loses focus for a few precious seconds.

"Run!" I yell again, and we start running.

Before we left to enter the Shadow Wood, Magesith gave us a single piece of advice. He warned us to never, ever, leave the yellow path. Never were we to wander off into the dense woodland on either side of the yellow brick road. Magesith warned us that once you leave the path, it is almost impossible to find your way back.

But right now we don't have much of a choice. If my siblings and I remain on the path, then the Barax will surely kill us. Even with our magikal abilities, I do not fool myself for a single moment in thinking that we are ready to take on a creature feared even by the immortal Fae.

So we run.

And run.

And _run_.

 **Draco's P.O.V**

I've read many books about magikal creatures over the summer holidays. But what precious little information there was on the Barax didn't cover how to stop one from chewing on you and your family.

All I really know about them is what they look like, and the fact that they eat the hearts of their victims and leave the rest. Neither piece of information is very helpful to our current situation. I don't know how to bring one down long enough for me, Harry and Hermione to get away. And even if I did, there's still no guarantee that we would survive a confrontation with such a dangerous beast.

Harry is still yelling at us to keep moving, the panic and frustration in his voice teeters on the edge of desperate. I want to do something to reassure him that we will be ok, that nothing could actually destroy us. But I know that isn't true and Harry would never accept such an obvious lie, even if it was coming from me. There's only so much a person can be expected to believe.

The three of us run through the thick black trees, trying to stay close together. I'm afraid of losing them both in this wood, and not just because of the Barax. There are plenty of ways the Shadow Wood has of tempting people from the path. I've read all about it in my books. The Shadow Wood is treacherous in and of itself, even without the deadly creatures which are known to inhabit it.

It gets colder the further away we run from the path. I can feel goosebumps rising on my skin, and every individual hair on my body stands at attention. I think even the hair on my head sticks up from the cold and the fright.

I can hear the panted breathes of my siblings as we run side by side. But there is also the sound of much deeper, more animalistic pants coming from close behind us. I feel heat emanating from the Barax reach out and coil around me. It's so close, but I dare not look back. I push myself to keep running, to keep moving forward.

Obviously Hermione runs faster than us, given her Olympian blood. I know that she could run faster if she wanted to. In fact, I think she could even outrun the Barax. But there's no way Hermione will leave me and Harry to fend for ourselves.

I draw up fire from my elemental core and send a blast of it backwards with a twitch of my hand.

A load roar of pure rage bellows out. It slows the Barax down, but doesn't stop it from coming after us.

After that both Harry and I keep throwing our elemental power at the Barax. Fire and Ice. But we can't really see what we're doing, so the jolts of power miss just as many times as they hit. All of it only keeps the Barax from killing us. No matter what we do, the Barax just keep coming.

Even I'm starting to feel a little hopeless. We can't outrun this beast forever. I'd be surprised if we lasted another few minutes. I think the only thing really stopping the Barax is the density of the trees. He can't leap on top of us because there's not enough room.

There's a loud grunting sound, a high pitched whine, and a great ground shuddering thud.

I almost take Harry down with me when he suddenly stops running and I crash into his back. Hermione pulls up short beside us, confusion in her large hazel eyes. I try to right myself, whilst Harry turns around to look back over my shoulder.

Part of me expects to see the Barax come bursting through the trees. But I know that would have happened already if it was going to.

"Harry, what by the Gods are you doing?" Hermione hisses at our brother.

Harry's expression is deep set and dark.

"Someone killed the Barax."

Hermione and I both stare at Harry in shock as he begins walking back the way we came from. After a moment of silence we follow after him. It doesn't take us long to find the Barax, dead, as Harry predicted. The Barax is sprawled against a large rock with a silver arrow embedded in its chest.

Where the flipping hell did that come from?

Like the universe read my mind and wanted to answer the question, a blue light suddenly appears, coming towards us from our left side. Harry and Hermione both tense up, their faces changing, forming expressions that are both determined and intimidating. Hermione takes hold of the silver arrow and yanks it out of the Barax. She brandishes the blood tipped arrow like a weapon, deadly intent shining in her eyes. Harry's magik crescendos around him, creating a thick wall of resistance between us and the potential threat.

They're ready for a fight. I'm ready to thank whoever it is who just saved our lives. I feel that the mixture of both keeps the balance between wary and polite.

A few moments later our rescuer reveals himself. And he's not alone.

A boy, probably no more than a couple of years older than us, steps out from the shadows holding a bow. He has a few arrows strapped to his back, and floating beside him a blue lantern. The boy is, in short, stunningly beautiful. He has the same large eyes and sharp features given to my siblings and I by Magesith. His skin is pale, maybe even paler than mine, like freshly fallen snow. The boy's hair is silver, not grey, _silver_. I feel as if I could see my own reflection in it if I got closer. His eyes are also silver, much like Magesith's, but without the tinges of cruelty and madness. He's slim, and of average height.

Flanking the Fae boy are two much larger Fae. They are pale skinned, but muscled and broad. All three of them are dressed in what appears to be hunting gear. Leather and protective armour. The two larger Fae hold weapons, big jagged swords that look like they could cause a lot off damage if wielded by a skilled and competent hand.

It's the boy Fae who addresses us first.

"By the solstice, who are _you_?" His voice is frigid with suspicion.

Hermione and Harry both look like they will refuse to answer, the two of them still assessing their new enemy for weaknesses and blah blah blah. I take a step forward, ignoring Harry's growled warning to stay put. I am gonna get in so much trouble for this later.

Fae boy's eyes flicker to focus completely on me. I such in a harsh breath at the intensity in his blatant stare.

"Hi! First of all, thanks for stopping the Barax." I'm unable to contain my frown though. "But did you really have to kill it?"

"Oh for the love of-" Hermione cuts herself off with a groan and a hand slapped against her forehead.

" ** _Dragon_**." Harry growls my name in a way that causes genuine shivers to race up and down my spine.

"Are you berating me for killing the creature who would have otherwise murder you and your..."

"Family." I supply, smiling kindly. "And no, I wasn't berating you. I just wanted to know if killing the Barax was completely necessary."

The Fae boy gives me look like I have some kind of contagious disease and says,

"You sound just like the Sprites. Peace and equality to all creatures and other such nonsense."

I tilt my head to one side and say firmly,

"I don't think it's nonsense to want peace or equality. Both of those things are important, and well worth fighting for."

"I can't believe this is actually happening in real life." Hermione huffs out in defeat.

"Maybe we died, and this is some sort of weird-arse version of purgatory." Harry says wearily.

"Who _are_ you?" Fae boy asks, sounding aghast.

I smile wider and lift a hand to wave at the boy who is standing three feet in front of me. Because I am a socially unacceptable human being.

"My name's Draco. Nice to meet you. I think. Maybe. We'll probably have to get to know each other a little better before I can know for sure."

"Better question." Harry interjects icily, "Who are you exactly?" He directs a pointed glare at the Fae boy. His eyes dart between the two bigger Fae, but they have yet to speak, and I get the feeling they won't be willing to any time soon.

The Fae boy draws himself up, rolling his shoulders back and matching Harry's glare with one of his own. He says in a different, more formal, voice,

"I am Prince Xavier Errox Aeon. Crowned Prince and heir to the thrown of the Winter kingdom and court."

Oh. Crap.

* * *

 ** _Special shout out to- censoredentity,Misskymm,Jeramy-Toombs and Toshiro of the Eternal Dream-THANK YOU MY UNICORN BRETHREN! _**

**_A/N-I know it's been ages, and I'm so sorry. I hope you all like this chapter, please let me know in a review! x_**


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